


Here's A Saying

by StoryCloud



Category: Kung Fu Panda - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Chi - Freeform, Family, Father-Son Relationships - Freeform, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Reincarnation, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-08-14 20:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8028253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoryCloud/pseuds/StoryCloud
Summary: For once, yesterday isn't history. And today, things don't go as they should have.Or, in which Kai meets someone else in the Spirit Realm, and things divert from there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ...This has been lying on my computer for a long while; three whole chapters. I told myself I wouldn't post until I'd finished, but...  
>  I don't know if I can finish this soon. One day I'll maybe come back to it, we'll see how it goes.

There was snow.

So much of it. It was as if the world had changed, as if there was nothing in existence except the white, the fog and the harsh wind. Through it trudged a pudgy figure, stooped over, fighting against the elements.

He tripped again, catching himself. Looking up, he surveyed the blurry horizon with uncertainty, his breath turning to steam by his lips. With a heavy breath, he heaved himself upright and continued on, noticing how numb his feet were and how heavy his body seemed.

On his back, a smaller but also sort-of plump figure closed his eyes, his arms hanging over the panda’s shoulders. Bundled on his back. But it did no good to keep out the cold.

They were alone. Speckles of frost coated their fur.

Po kept going.

 

 

 

Let’s go back to the beginning.

 

_..._

_Clink. Clink. Clink._

He knew how to map out these areas, judge the distances. He knew when a soul was lingering and when they were sparse.

_Clink. Clink. Clink._

It wasn’t hard, really. Sometimes, he wished it was.

The hulking body paused, and the ringing chains dangling from his arms fell into a restless silence. A vague sound, like sprinkling air, drifted overhead alongside the green-gold vapours and scattered dust. The sizable ruins, made of stone forgotten by tine and adorned with patterns even further back, would be impressive to a newcomer for at least five minutes. But the sights got old. They got old _fast_ here.

A snort, and Kai continued on. The familiar chink of the chain-blades wasn’t enjoyable, but like whistling it was a pass-time to fill up the silence. He wore a rather bored look, eyeing the temples hovering adjacent to the island of dirt he was striding across right now with slight contempt.

He hadn’t had a decent fight in years. He was beginning to get a little _cranky_.

The yak paused again, surveying the desolate area with a less-than interested air. The ambient hum of the place had long replaced his expectation of a breeze. “Hmph.”

A glimmer. His eyes slid sideways. Nothing to get excited about, but. Flexing an arm, he swung a length of chain around his limb and wound up the blade. He tossed it toward and it soared, arrow-like towards the floating platform a good mile ahead. He heard the sound of it embedding into the rock, and he tugged.

A quick surge, and he landed heavily on the other side, soft dirt cracking beneath his hooves. Straightening up slowly, Kai glanced over the area once more. Nothing much of note. The odd weapon lay encrusted in the ruins, remnants of some sorry warrior who had lost any hope of inner peace. They’d probably meant something to someone, once. His lip curled.

The glimmer he’d seen had faded, and he couldn’t sense anything just yet.

Wait a minute.

The bull came to a halt. He’d seen something, right there. Around the side of this decrepit temple. Another spirit? Strange. Usually he’d find them moseying around, or sitting cross-legged on the steps. No wandering about the sides. Oh well, he supposed not everyone had a taste for style.

He moved around the small temple, twirling one blade between his hooves, very, very slowly.

But he found no-one there. His own shadow stretched on ahead. He arched a brow. “...Hm.”

_Shuffle._

His ear twitched. Kai looked over his shoulder, eyeing the steps behind him. Nothing. “...Playing games? Not my forte, hide and seek.” His voice, casual and verging on pleasant, sounded sharper than usual here.

Then, he heard footsteps, small ones, plodding further around the temple.

He drew closer.

...What?

Kai stopped in his tracks for the third time. Something was wandering around the back of the temple, peering at the floating rocks overhead. Something very small, and rather pudgy. A _calf_ was standing a few feet away from him. It took him a few moments of hard staring to convince himself he was seeing things.

His brow lifted further, and he glanced around the immediate area. He found no explanation.

The calf was small, by yak standards. Probably one of those shorter kinds from Tibet. How did he know this? Because many a foe had asked the former general about his size – how a yak could be so big. He told them. And then he’d stepped on their skulls, and they hadn’t asked again.

He didn’t pretend to be an expert in how this place worked. But he assumed it was a place for those whose chi was strong enough to continue after death. Warriors, masters.

Not _babies._

“Abah.”

The calf stumbled over his own feet and landed on his back with a plop. A shock of brown hair fell over a round face, fawn-coloured fur clashing with red-brown clothing. Someone had taken the liberty of giving the boy shoes, and a strange cone hat. Kai snorted, smirking at it – a cone hat, with several beads hanging from it like a decorated lamp. It was far too big for the toddler’s head.

His amusement faded.

A thin beam of green passed over his eyes.

This little bundle of fluff couldn’t possibly have any –

_What._

A strange, milky aura was surrounding the boy, strong, thicker than smoke. Pulsing like a heartbeat, barely ignorable, centred in on something hanging from his neck. Kai’s suspicious attitude went through the proverbial roof. He drew closer. The light of the realm behind him shrouded his face, making him in all accounts, unnerving. But the calf didn’t see.

How could he have so much Chi? At _this_ age? It had to be a trick –

The calf saw him approaching and let out a wail. Kai stopped in his tracks. Then, the former beast of vengeance huffed, and knelt down. He put on the lightest smile he could, and held out a hoof.

“It’s all right, little one. I’m a friend.”

Easy.

He knelt there, keeping as still as possible, for a moment. Patiently, really - being stuck here for centuries did that to a guy. The tiny yak stared at him, then waddled forward, a little hoof grabbing onto the giant’s finger. Kai stiffened. He hadn’t any experience with children, nor letting anyone grab onto his hand like this, but he let it slide.

The calf looked up at him, ears flopping. “Huuuh.”

It was a funny expression, he’d give him then. Kai smirked a little. “Easy. Don’t run.”

Then, he saw the pendant.

Milky and marble-like, similar to one of his own jade amulets...but the carving was fainter, vague, he couldn’t make out the image, but if he had to guess, he’d say it was a bovine animal wearing a funny kind of hat...

The child let go of his hand and toddled off, reaching out to something else. Kai, still knelt where he was, watched him with a lifting brow –

...Ah.

That very same hat was lying nearby. A circular conical hat with several bead-laced strings hanging off the edges. Pretty sturdy looking for something so light. Too big for the baby, but he seemed to think it was his.

Kai’s eyes drifted to the boy’s amulet again. Maybe it was just the amulet he’d been picking up. If so, how’d he get it?

And...

The Maker of Widows stood, and approached the toddler again. The boy peered up, nibbling quietly on the end of the hat. Kai smirked, mirthlessly. It would send ten men running, but no toddler is that clever. “What’re you up to?”

The toddler beamed at him. He sat himself down again nearby, letting the boy wander about for a moment.

Walking on eggshells like this wasn’t his nature. At all. But he had no reason to harm this child, and if the Chi amulet was a separate entity...he doubted the boy would miss it.

The toddler came back to him again, staring up with a dozy little smile. What could he say? Having someone gawk at you in amazement was a no-win situation of you didn’t want to grin. Lucky for him. “Hey there.”

The boy wrapped his arms around the handle on one of his blades. That wasn’t going to fly. Kai plucked him up by the scruff and set him elsewhere.

“That’s not yours. Don’t play with that, kiddo.”

The child had already lost interest, and didn’t react much when he was lifted. Instead he started clambouring up his arm, reaching up to catch onto his hair. Kai flinched, expecting a painful tug, but instead the boy lifted one of the dreadlocks over his own tiny head, as if pretending it was a wig.

“Oooh.”

He chuckled, but it was very brief.

“Wazza...?” The calf was pointing down at his belt. The shiny amulets had caught his attention.

That reminded him.

Kai took hold of the amulet hanging around his neck. The child peered down at it.

“Mi-ne...” He murmured, quietly.

Kai didn’t reply, turning it over in his hand –

And there was a kanji character; a name engraved so smoothly it could have formed there naturally. _Jun._

“Jun, is it?” He mused aloud, and the toddler’s head lifted up, eyes blinking. Kai smirked, a bit more sharply this time. “So it _is_ yours, huh...?”

_Snap._

The string tore, and the amulet was snatched away.

 The child jumped. He lifted his tiny hoofs, making a small noise of confusion. But Kai was standing, lifting the odd amulet away to better inspect it in the light. Only then did he glance back down at the tiny being. He tutted,

“Aw. Don’t worry, little guy. I’ll put it to good use.”

He began walking away.

Jun watched the stranger go, arms flopping. Then he tried to follow, but his legs tangled and he tripped, landing with a crash. He spluttered. Then he started a cry.

Kai kept walking. The wails continued.

Then, a hum of light. Kai looked down. The amulet he’d just snatched away from the tiny yak had vanished from his belt –

And reappeared around the boy’s neck, string and all.

He stared for a moment.

...So.

It was attached to him.

Slowly, very slowly, he strode back to the whimpering calf. In a fluid motion, he lifted him up. He was tiny, lighter than a pouch of sugar. Jun wriggled, eyes forced shut. But then he was tucked, almost gently, into the crook of the yak’s arm. He calmed almost instantly, wails fading away. He peered at the stranger through droopy eyelids, then set his head against his chest. Kai stiffened.

The warm eight was foreign, and strange. He’d had no relatives this age, never held a child. Strange how something could feel light and heavy all at once. He quietly lifted a hoof and combed it over the baby’s hair. Jun yawned, squeakily, and nodded off. Out like a light. The amulet’s glow faded away.

Kai stared down at the baby nestled his hold, a dark thought swimming through his head.

He could harness it now, and he wouldn’t feel a thing.

The yak raised his free arm; hoof hovering ominously over the child’s head. The tips of his fingers burned green.

Jun stirred, rubbed at his nose, and snuggled closer.

Kai paused. It would be so easy.

But he let his arm fall back to his side. He huffed, bitterly. This kind of thing got him into this five-hundred year long mess in the first place.

He sat down on a rock, now saddled with a hapless infant, and glared into the empty green horizon. Jun’s steady breathing broke the silence, as did his own. He had things to be doing, believe it or not. He was a very busy spirit warrior.

Something was tugging on his goatee. He glanced down. Jun, eyes half-open, was pulling on his goatee.  His brow lifted, slightly. “Oh, so I don’t get any Chi, but you get to pull on my beard?”

“Bwa.” Jun waved a pudgy fist.

Shsssss -

He heard it ten seconds before he saw it. A soft ring of metal unsheathing from –

He was on his feet; foot kicking out to counter the spear that came flying from the north-east. It broke on impact. This was quite an amazing feat when you have a toddler huddled in one arm. He straightened up, taking on a more casual slant as the perpetrator hopped into view. This was interesting, just his luck. Not many people attacked _him_ first.

A tiger, on the skinny side, panting like he’d run a mile or two. He stood up to his full height, which in comparison to his foe, wasn’t much. His eyes flickered over the eerily green-eyed yak for a moment, then to the babe blinking bewilderedly in his arm. “...You. You have the brat.”

“...Take it you now him?” Kai didn’t know whether he’d meant to sound this bored already, but he did, and with his eyebrow lifted an all, he must have looked it. The cat scowled,

“Whatever – just give him.”

Kai chuckled. Soft as it was, it would sent spasms up anyone’s spine. Jun, despite the initial shock, had drifted off to sleep again. “You really think I take orders for toothpicks? What’s so special about him? Come on, deal me in.”

The cat clearly hated being spoken to like his arrival was more of a nuisance than a threat. His fur bristled. “That little waif has been appearing in the Spirit Realm ever since he was born – some kind of shaman, or soothsayer, or whatever, one of those future wise men who talk down to everybody.”

Shaman...?

A little bit of an explanation.

He was alive, then. Kai’s gaze flickered down to the calf, oblivious to the conversation. ‘Appearing...’ so is that was these mystical people did when they went into one of their ‘visions?’ Go figure.

The feline drew out a knife and pointed it directly at the infant, “With his power, I plan to go back to the living realm. _Releasing_ his chi before he returns to the living land again should do it.”

Oh really?

Kai snorted, “Sorry, friend. The little guy’s chi is strong, but...” He glanced down at the calf, “It won’t get you back. I know a thing or two about that.”

The cat’s eyes narrowed. “Worth. A shot. Now hand him over, _tubby_.”

He obviously didn’t know who he was talking to. And at that silence revelation, Kai’s mood soured completely.

“Well, your Chi’s a free sample at best, but unfortunately for you...I’m not _picky_.”

Something dark swept over the yak’s face, vicious and devoid of all its former casualness and suddenly the feline found himself in horrible, excruciating pain. His shriek couldn’t catch up with his body being smacked upwards by a pair of spiked horns. He hit against the suspended island directly above them, dirt and rock dislodging and floating away from the cat-shaped dent he’d made. In fact, he was completely engraved in it. He shifted his jaw, body straining, _“Argh!”_

Kai yanked his blade to him with a flick of the (free) wrist, the gong-like ring of the jade reverberating through the air. Then, he tossed the blade upward, watching it embed itself in the rock directly beside the feline’s face. Finally, his shell-shocked opponent reacted.

The tiger tore away from his feline-shaped groove and spun off just in time to avoid the blade’s twin. Kai actually laughed, grim as it was. The cat kicked off the dirt, diving for him, dual blades spinning between his fingers. Kai pulled on a chain; swinging the blade on the end so it blurred into a sharp green circle.

The daggers were blocked, the cat twisted around to land before him, banking under his arm to try and attack him close-rang. Kai’s elbow lashed out, catching him on the jaw. The hit sent a painful crack ringing through the air, and the cat staggered backward.

But, to his surprise, the feline was up again, blood dribbling down his chin. Kai swiped at his neck, missing by inch; the noodle-bodied tiger kicked off his arm and lashed at the calf –

Jun wailed. A claw had grazed his chin.

Something in the yak snapped. His hoof latched onto the feline’s throat, catching it in a crushing hold. He wondered – if he squeezed just a tad harder, would those stupid eyes of his pop out?

“Too slow, kitten.”

A blur of green swept through his fingers. Panic bubbled on the tiger’s face, he clawed desperately at his arm. Kai watched, a smirk spreading slowly, as the cat’s body stiffened, went rigid, and finally went still, as the green overlapped his face.

Then, the body was gone, blurring down into a small, very simple, amulet.

Not much Chi after all.

Jun wailed, softly, and his smile slipped away. He lifted the toddler’s chin – as ‘gently’ as possible, since he could probably crush the little thing without even trying - and found the damage wasn’t of much note, just a little nick. “Come on, your tougher than that, shaman-boy.”

Jun clasped onto his hand, and wouldn’t let go when he tried to tug it away. His brow creased. “Hmm.”

“Oooh.” The little hooves went for the amulet in his hand next. When Kai wouldn’t let him pry it away, he chomped down on his own pendant, apparently forgetting the whole fiasco.

Kai have a brief chuckle.

He didn’t _have_ to save him. But ah well.

The milky amulet was glowing.

Kai’s eyes narrowed and Jun yawned, drooped his head against his arm – then his entire form began to fade. The former warlord felt what little weight he held lift.

In a soft, barely-there blur of beige, the calf vanished.

Back to the mortal realm, he assumed. Was it really that easy for these spiritual people? Drift off to sleep, you visit the Spirit Realm. With that in mind, he hung the newest amulet on his belt, drawing his hoof over the others. It wouldn’t be that long until he had his own one-way ticket out of this place. Not long at all.

Lip curling, he resumed his walk.

 

 


	2. Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new, familiar face.

Oogway had a habit of showing up in places when you least expected it, and of performing the out-of-ordinary, and rather spontaneous, feat. Showing up in the Kunyu Mountains with a gurgling infant, for one. Masters Flying Rhino, Deer and Chicken were startled when the spiritual leader of Kung Fu arrived, but he treated the entire affair like it was a afternoon tea stop. They had no choice but to play along.

Flying Rhino wanted to address the elephant in the room; the yak calf snoozing in the turtle’s arm. They walked with each other in the temple courtyard, with him glancing at the infant several times. Oogway smiled, eyeing the faraway clouds, before pausing. His staff clicked against the paving stones with a reverberating tap.

“...Master Rhino. I haven’t just come here for a visit, I’m afraid.”

Obviously. Flying Rhino cleared his throat, “I’m not offended, Master Oogway. This...child. He’s of importance, somehow?”

The tortoise chortled, old lips beaming, “You act so apprehensive, my friend. There is no omen. I simply wish to put him on his path.”

“...Here? We train students, but a child this young hasn’t been reared.” The old rhino murmured, coming to face the turtle. He kept his voice quiet; the hum of the mountain breeze passing between them. The calf slept on, unaware. Oogway’s smile grew soft, almost sad, and he drew a quivering old hand over the child’s fluffy head.

“...A harsh path, I saw for him. Only you can prepare him for it, my friend.”

And he held out the bundle. Master Rhino had no qualms about holding the child. He’d been a father himself, many decades ago. The calf stirred, and it was then that the old master noticed the pendant, creamy white...an odd variant of jade. “What is this amulet?”

“Keep it with him, for all time.” The turtle murmured, turning away. If the old master hadn’t known better, he’d have said something sad had flickered over the aging turtle’s gaze.

“You are to leave, then?” He murmured, as the tortoise hobbled away. Oogway paused and peered over his shoulder, long neck straining. He smiled,

“Hmph, I’ll be checking in now and again. Oh. And his name is _Jun.”_

He chuckled, as if uttering some inside joke. “Hm-hm-hm!”

The old turtle waved, and then he was gone. Throughout it all, Jun slept.

...

Time had passed, though not much of it by Spirit Warrior standards. A rustle of chains, and Kai landed on another floating temple. The stairway was still pretty intact. He was approaching the more preserved areas of the realm again. He stood upright, huffing slightly, scanning the stairway – and found no one. A grumble, and he was continuing onward.

He sat down on the stairs, moving to untangle one of the chains, huffing absently. The quiet pressed in one him, for a moment. It was almost cold here – or it could just be his imagination. He snorted. If he was losing his mind this far in, he’d –

“Bawa.”

He glanced up, slowly; one hand still leant on a blade. Jun was toddling over, oversized hat slipping over dopey eyes. Kai’s lip coiled. “Well look who it is.”

Jun stared at the stairs before him, then heaved himself up the first, then the second, coming to stand beside the yak. Kai made no move to push him away, he had no reason to. “Back again, hmm?” He glanced at the amulet hanging from the boy’s neck, unchanged. Jun decided that, after tackling the stairs, his arm was next. He was climbing up his shoulder before long. Kai, completely stoic throughout, quirked a brow. “What exactly did I do to make you think you could do that?”

Jun grabbed his nose, and he actually gave a start. “Argh –“ He drew away, shoving the toddler back a bit. Jun tumbled onto his side. Kai’s eyes widened.

The calf began whimpering, more confused than anything. The former general sighed, drawing a hoof down his face, and picked him up, raising him to eye level. “Look.”

The toddler pressed his hands on his cheeks, cooing quietly. Kai frowned, but went on, “I could squash you, and you would die. So go back to the mortal realm.”

“Bwa.” The calf responded by tugging on his helmet. Kai smirked,

“I know you think I’m awesome, but that’s my helmet.” With that, Jun tugged harder, and it slipped over his eyes. Kai forced down his growl and pushed it back in place, glaring lightly at the small being as he chortled away. “You think that’s funny?”

Moments later, Jun was hanging upside down by his ankle, still laughing merrily. “How ‘bout this?”

The change in gravity didn’t seem to faze him, So Kai placed him back down on the steps, standing himself. Jun warbled, uncertainly.

Kai looked back. Jun stared at him, pouting unhappily. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt.

He took the babe with him, on his quiet walk through the spirit realm. Jun continued babbling on, though he couldn’t understand a word he said. Point at things, to which the former general feigned surprise. He didn’t find those rocks all that fascinating no matter how high they floated.

Eventually, Jun nodded off, clinging to his horns. Kai needed both hands free, so he’d settled him on his shoulder.

When he slept, the boy faded back into the mortal realm, and the silence resumed.

...

Jun saw the grey man in the green place lots of times. He’d go to sleep, bye-bye temple, bye Master Rhino. Then he’d be in the green place, and the stranger would be there. Hooves like his, no one else at the temple had hooves.

The same. Sometimes the man was quiet, staying away, grumbling. Sometimes he was friendly. He liked climbing on his horns. He was more friendly as time went on.

But he couldn’t make him mad. Don’t touch the shiny knives, don’t pull the long hair. Don’t steal helmet.

He was nicer than the people in the temple. The people in the temple didn’t carry him for long. Master Rhino wasn’t very funny.

But Jun’s head was filling with words. More things to do, in the temple. More things to think about. He went to the green place less, and when he did, he couldn’t find Kai before he had to go back.

Lesser and lesser, until the memory of him became a blur. Just a dream, sometimes jogged when he saw the colour green, or heard a chain rattle.

...

Reserved. Master Rhino describes Jun as reserved. The hat showed up one day, the calf was found in his crib, nibbling on it. A plain hat, dangling beads. The pendant stayed around his neck, for all times. The style the calf was taught leant towards the styles all large mammals used; Though agility was possible, he would grow to be large and bulky, so strong, sturdy, and impervious rather than evasive was his teachings.

And yet evasiveness remained his key component. Jun was a nice child, respectful, but Rhino rather regretted the decision to have him raised here, so isolated. Oogway had seen fit for it, and he did interact with other students his age, eventually.

But he gained no friendships yet. He preferred his own company. Rhino recalled such a dilemma with his own son...

...But his son had been a wayward adolescent, not a child of eight.

Oogway came and went, speaking with the child. Jun seemed unsure of him, but happy to see him when he arrived none the less, like a funny relative from afar. But even with Oogway, he was reserved.

Outside the temple, the world went on. They heard tell of the Dragon Warrior. Jun was curious, but since it was so far away, he wasn’t jubilant. Flying Rhino lamented the fact he couldn’t see the tournament himself.

Then the news came.

Too much news.

The dragon warrior was a panda who couldn’t touch his toes. Tai Lung had escaped from prison.

And then the thing no one had been prepared for. Oogway was dead.

He’d gone from this world as he’d arrived. Unexpected.

...

Jun felt numb as he and Rhino scaled the steps. They had walked, all month and more, and they walked some more. Through the village, with other Kung Fu warriors and their students, all branching out from Oogway’s teachings. Jun stared at the broken walls, shingle-less roofs. The results of a battle between Tai Lung, and the Dragon Warrior.

The danger was over. Now they had to face the aftermath.

Jun scaled the steps with heavy breaths, head bent as he trotting behind Flying Rhino. His hat his his face and he was glad.

Numb.

Oogway was gone. Without saying goodbye, without telling him everything. That sounded selfish. But hadn’t he heard that he’d gone by his own accord? He didn’t know. Jun guessed that was the point. He glanced at Master Rhino, but the dark mammal’s eyes were ahead, on the gleaming temple above. Behind him, Master Chicken was clucking sullenly.

Jun didn’t know a lot about himself. But he knew Oogway. Oogway was...a little bit of comfort, assurance – stability, or something. Jun wasn’t good at describing things, but without him, he felt lost.

The calf looked over his shoulder.

The many masters behind them moved along, heads bent, and not to look away from the sun. He realised, then, that perhaps he wasn’t alone in that feeling.

It only really hit him when they went inside the palace. Green. Lots of green. He stared around, mesmerised, but then he saw a familiar cane sitting upon a shrine, sprinkled with pink petals.

Something built in his throat, and suddenly the idea was frightening.

Oogway wasn’t ever coming back.

He didn’t cry, but as he knelt with Rhino before the shrine, Master Shifu – the Master Shifu - watching his feet and avoiding all eyes, he wished that he could.

...

When the excitement died down, Po realised that they had to deal with the inevitable. Oogway had died. Gone. He’d been alive for hundreds of years. He unravelled Kung Fu. Po knew all the battles, all the tales, Oogway the seed from which all of them reached. That crazy old turtle and his saying under the peach tree. Master Oogway...had died.

It was a big deal. And as the Masters pooled in, one after the other, he found his awe and excitement was drowned down by a weird, nagging feeling.

That somehow, this was his fault.

Shifu’s words plagued his mind, and he stood by the newly positioned Master of the Jade Palace, all day, to welcome the Masters. They were coming to pay their respects. You must be there, Po. So there he was, paws clasped together, head down, lips drawn in.

He felt guilty, a lot really, for the elation he also felt at seeing the Masters. And from afar he saw _Flying Rhino himself!_

Almost the eldest of Oogway’s students, there that day. There would be others, all over the land.

When sunset came, the panda found himself compelled to visit the ‘Sacred Peach Tree’ of Heavenly wisdom.

He found it without a single petal.

Any elation he felt died off at that point.

...

Jun didn’t receive any recognising looks, nor did he really meet Master Shifu’s eye. Oogway hadn’t spoken of him, or the odd circumstances of his birth. The calf didn’t know how felt. Bitter? Or relieved that he’d been left alone?

He sat on the steps, leaving Master Rhino to speak to Shifu inside. There were talks of statues, memorials.

Sunlight peaked over the mountains. The sky turned pink. Jun glanced at a step –

_Green._

He turned around to stare up at the Palace behind him. In the sunlight, the hade walls gleamed. The colour made something in him stir.

He couldn’t place it.

“Oh...hey there.”

A half-cheerful voice piped. Jun turned his head, slowly, expression ranging on blank. A panda. Or the panda. Plump, smiling nervously, the Dragon Warrior. Jun felt a smile curl.

“...Hi.”

The panda placed his paws together, glancing around. Then, with a mutter to himself, he settled down on the step some yards away. “So. You came here with, uh, Master Rhino?”

“Uh-Huh.” Jun tilted his head, He looked a little on edge. But could anyone blame him? “...You’re Po Ping, The Dragon Warrior.”

An almost soft smile came to his face, as if he was scarcely letting himself believe it. “Yah.” He looked over at him, curious, “So, uh, what’s – “

“...I’m Jun.” He murmured, turning back to look at the sunset.

“Master Oogway was something.” The panda said, after a while. “I mean, I only just met him, but...he got some stuff figured out.”

Jun couldn’t help a smile. “I’ve known him all my life. Knew.” Tenses. The panda’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

Jun shrugged, a little, still smiling. “He, uh, found me. Sent me to live with Master Rhino, and learn Kung Fu.”

Was it envy he saw on the panda’s face? Not the bad kind, just a ‘wow’ kind of expression. “Whoa. That’s pretty cool.”

Jun laughed. “I guess.” He couldn’t tell him. He didn’t want to bring it up. Lots of students had a ‘destiny’. He wasn’t anything special.

He sniffed. Po’s head veered, green eyes wide. “You okay?”

Jun breathed, and nodded. “Yeah. I will be. He went on his own, so it’s not the same as – other deaths.”

Po bit down on his lip, and silence held the two. Then he stood up, “Uhh...I told the five I’d make ‘um some noodle soup, and you look like you could use a pick-me-up.”

Jun blinked, but followed him, up the steps, towards the halls. Green light reflecting off the walls.

“Plus I figured out the secret ingredient to my dad’s secret ingredient soup. Turns out it was also the answer to Oogway’s prophecy.”

“...Oh. That’s...handy.”

...

The last time Kai saw Jun, he’d wager the calf was three. Still babbling nonsense words and following him around. He let him. Having another presence around that did entail fighting wasn’t peaceful, but he’d go with ‘content’. When Jun didn’t return for months on end, he assumed the boy had grown out of whatever allowed him to come here unconsciously.

He wished the boy luck, whatever life he had on the outside. He’d never admit to anyone that he missed him.

But he put him out of his mind. He had work to do.

...

Things in the world shifted, after Oogway’s death. China was more at peace, thanks to the Dragon Warrior and the Five – but the uncertainty that came in the wake of the turtle’s departure remained. All the masters felt it; the tenseness of the universe. A cycle had ended. The future was utterly blank from now on.

A year or two passed, and Jun’s training went on. He was talented. Very talented. In fact, sometimes it seemed the boy was bored with his technique, as if he’d reserved it so many times it became muscle memory. It was odd, but impressive at the same time. But not enough to be of great note. He wondered, about what Oogway had seen, even to this day.

News came and went. China in high spirits, hearing of the Dragon Warrior’s adventures. Jun improving, growing a little more joyful when he heard them too.

Jun had liked Po. He didn’t know why, but, it was hard not to feel comfortable around the panda. Hearing of him put him in a good mood most of the time.

Master Rhino seemed pleased with his training.

But news could always turn bad.

Jun heard about it in the afternoon, when he was playing with some pebbles. A messenger hurried by, and he’d watched, stiff, as he’d gone to Master Rhino. The air itself had gone silent.

Master Rhino’s son was dead.

...

This death was in no ways like Oogway’s passing. Thundering Rhino’s demise had been...horrible. Untimely. Struck down without honour. Jun had seen him, in passing. Lighter skinned than his father, younger, yet somehow he seemed just as wise and strong.

And he was dead.

Jun didn’t pay much attention to the details that came next, of a peacock lord and strange weapons. His master had gone quiet, and didn’t speak to him. Jun couldn’t reach Flying Rhino. He didn’t know what to say to him, how to help him. Jun didn’t know how to comfort people like that. He didn’t know what family was, what loss like this ways. Oogway faded.

Thundering Rhino had been ripped from this world.

Jun was told of the plan. He was to be sent to the Jade Palace, his training would be overseen by Shifu. Rhino had told him of it himself. They hadn’t spoken in a week. Jun held back a shiver, feeling numb and lost, as his Master told him that he would see him again soon, and that Po and the Five would welcome him.

Jun didn’t argue. Inside, he felt torn. He left the place he called home, and ventured with one of the warriors of the temple as a guide, to the land below.

Things didn’t go as planned. He didn’t go to The Valley of Peace right away. Winter blocked off the pass, so he remained in the more urban lands, with Master Lizard. He was a stern but swift teacher, and taught him well for that brief winter-clad time.

Months passed, and he made for the Valley again. This time, on his own.

At the same time, an older panda set out for the Valley, too.


	3. You Get A Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jun meets an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to figure out how I could restart this story and write it properly, with more focus on Po - since I wrote the first chapter the story has changed to include him far more. But I'll post this chapter anyway.

The pass between the mountain peaks was as empty as you’d expect. Jun didn’t think it would be this quiet, or this chilly. He was a yak, though. Hills were his thing. So along he went, the only noise punctuating the slope-filled hush being his footsteps crinkling through the soil. He looked around, pausing for a moment. He hadn’t seen anyone in a while now. Travelling alone wasn’t idea. Master Lizard hadn’t liked it, but he sent him anyway.

Jun was glad to be away from his village. The other youths in training with him hadn’t liked him, and he hadn’t like them. Too much water there anyway. The calf sighed, tipped his hat back, and continued on. The beads hanging from the brim jingled half-heartedly in response.

Another look over his shoulder. Still no one there. Sunlight sat in truce with the clouds. Not too bright, not too dark.

It was quiet. He looked left, and right, and trotted along. But trying to be hearty in this pressing silence wasn’t going to work, so he slowed down, watching the path, the rock faces, and probably treating each little sound far too seriously.

He’d been on his own before. He _liked_ being alone. So what was the problem? Nothing. Nothing at all. Jun laughed, but the laughter died after a few huffs.

He kept walking. Even the wind didn’t make any noise.

Then.

_Clink. Clink._

A rattle. Clear, and sharp. The echo was pronounced, almost as if it were deliberate. Jun’s head turned, slowly. The sound stopped. His brow lifted, eyes a little wide, unconsciously battling unease. He blinked. Nothing was there. Something about that sound wasn’t right. Not...normal. He couldn’t explain it.

He stared at the road behind him.

Left. Right. Rock faces. Nothing. Jun swallowed.

A blade dove into the soil. It slit through the crispy dirt like it was bread. Jun gaped at it, frozen stiff for one second, then he heard the rattle again, and other blade embedded itself in the wall beside him. The sound of it made him jump.

Nope. He turned, stumbled, and he scrambled away.

_Thud._

Something much, much bigger had landed behind him. Jun knew it was probably a dense move to look behind you when you could barely keep upright looking ahead, but he did it anyway. In the quick blur he picked up over his shoulder he saw a very bulky figure straighten up from a crouch, and looking his way.

His voice wobbled in a nameless noise of worry, and he sped up, looking ahead again.

What happened next seemed to be in slow motion. A sharp sweep of green fly by him, singing like newly struck metal. Jun felt the air swish by his ear when it passed. And it dragged something with it, something long and metal and chattering loudly like –

Chains.

The green sweep was a blade. It hit the ground ahead of him, but it didn’t stop. It dragged around in a circle, digging a good inch deep into the ground, bringing up the hardened soil. Jun skidded to a stop, toe just missing a trim. His balance wavered, but he didn’t fall.

He pivoted, breath wavering, whatever teachings of calmness forgotten. There was no way he could fight a...

The figure was walking towards him. The knife boomeranged back to him, and he caught it without looking _or_ blinking. Jun stared, and lowered his arms. His fists curled and uncurled, and he waited. He couldn’t do anything else.

It was another yak.

The bigger kind.

Jun supposed, anyway. At first glance, he could’ve been mistake for anything else. His horns were impossibly large, shaped in a way that couldn’t – shouldn’t be natural. He was shorter than his arm, and his eyes were –

Jun repressed a shudder. Why were the whites of his eyes green? Why were they _glowing?_

Green.

Something in his brain stirred, but it only served to make him more nervous.

He shifted back a little. The yak frowned onward, as if mapping out the road ahead of them, before turning his gaze down on the calf. Jun’s fists tightened and he glanced up at him once before staring at his own feet. The elder snorted. A calm, collected expression doused his snout. Like he was watching a bird flitter by, rather than a terrified calf.

Jun swallowed. “...H...” His greeting died in his throat.

A ghost of a smile drifted over the large yak’s lips. “It’s okay, little one.” His voice was horribly pleasant. He knelt down, barely decreasing his height, his smirk more apparent. “Tell me. What is this place?”

Jun’s unease grew. Something about this, this situation. No, not being corned by a frightening stranger, but something else. He couldn’t place it. What was it? Why did it –

The yak’s smile had receded a little, patience thinning.

A question. Right. Jun swallowed again, glancing around. His voice was laced with uncertainty.

“The T-Tal Shu Pass...?” He answered, uneasily. The elder’s eyes broadened in acknowledgement.

 “Ah.” He raised a pointed hoof to adjust the odd one around his neck. He leaned in closer, as if passing on some gossip or friendly remark. “If I stepped on you...would you die?”

Jun seized up. The elder’s eyes widened a little, as if he’d realised he’d made a mistake. “...Hm. Never mind that, then.”

“...Yes.” Jun answered, a delayed reaction but there you go. “Who...who are you?”

Something dark flittered over the other’s face. His brow lifted, and Jun wondered if asking so blatantly was some sort of _disrespect to your elders_ kind of deal. “Kai. General Kai.” He stood up to his full height, arms and voice lifting, “Supreme Warlord of all China.”

Kai.

Kai.

That name...muttered quietly, behind backs, through shoji doors, Oogway murmuring in a more tired voice than usual. Jun’s face blanched. But none of that worried him. It was, you guessed it, something else.

Kai dropped his arms, catching his pale-faced stare out of the corner of his eye. Suspicion replaced his presentation.

“...But...you...”

The poisonously greens eyes flickered. Jun knew he’d said the wrong thing. He stepped back. Over the line the blade had left in the dirt. “I, Um. Need to go now.”

“Oh Really?” The taller remarked, completely friendly and humoured, and utterly terrifying. Like it was funny he’d even consider trying it. Jun grinned nervously. Another step. Out of the sword line. The stranger chuckled, a rumbling sound that was far too level to mean well. He stepped forward, and in a single stride he was looming directly over him. Jun stumbled back.

“Have you heard that name before?” He inquired levelly. Jun shrugged. It was more of a spasm.

“N-no. I, um.” He didn’t look at him. He stared at the dirt. Green. Chains. Rattling. Laughter. Never mind. “I heard Oogway, is all. Talking.”

That was the wrong thing to say. The level look faded into a darker one. “I see.” His lip curled, without a snatch of humour. “Friend of his, are you?”

That tone wasn’t the nicest.

“I...knew him. But he’s – um, dead.” Jun returned, with a little more firmness. He looked away again. Eye contact was not his thing. He heard the other yak laugh again, lowly.

“I heard.”

“Most students meet him at least once.” Jun said. Why did that come out so bitter? He frowned to himself, nose wrinkling. The stranger eyed him.

“Hmm.” Kai tilted his head, “And what did Oogway have to say about me?”

The little yak placed his hands behind his back, trying to act natural. “He didn’t speak to me about it. He didn’t let me in on a... lot of things...”

Those amulets were _weird_. And green.

Very green.

Jun looked up at him. The beads hanging from his hat flittered in surprise. It was there, on the tip of his...mind. Kai frowned at him quizzically in return. Something about the guy’s face, too, it was –

Something, in the depths of the short, pudgy-looking calf’s mind, went ‘click’.

Wait.

 Hang on.

Green skies. Hovering rocks. He’d been small. Smaller. He’d been - Someone there when he was...

He almost felt the ground flip. In came on him in a wave. Oogway would _blush_ at all the similes he could come up with to describe it.

Green and grey. Laughter. Chains ringing. Jun slowly tilted his head. “Its...it’s you.”

The elder eyed him down, confused for a moment – but then his expression cleared, too, brow lifting, eyes going wide.

They stared at each other.

“... _Jun?”_

The slight gawking continued.

He sounded even more incredulous than he felt. Jun grinned, sheepishly, trying to laugh, but feeling too awestruck to manage. Images flickered in his head, on and off like an overactive puppet show. Vague memories. Very vague. But he knew them.

He beamed, and wandered forward, Kai’s brow rising further in surprise – but as soon as he moved, the calf halted and scuttled back, swinging his arms back. Tongue in cheek. Instead of moving to _hug_ him – as if seemed he’d been about to do, he instead waved up at him awkwardly.

“Heh – Hiya.”

“You’ve gotten big.” Kai ruffled his hair – almost knocking the still very small calf over, and dislodged his hat. Jun ducked away, though not with any scorn, grinning sheepishly still.

“Bigg- _er_.” He confirmed, tipping back on his heels, “Uhhh...you’re...still green.”

“Oh, wouldn’t have noticed. Good for me.” Kai commented offhandedly. Jun snorted, glancing off to the side. As if remembering something,

“So...ummm...where were you all the time?” The boy’s smile faltered, and he tapped his hooves together, staring at his feet, “I mean – anything I remember, it’s this...green-yellow place, with lots of –“

“Floating rocks?” Kai offered, flatly. “Yes.”

Jun stared up at him. “...Who...I mean, why were you _there_?” What was ‘there’? Kai seemed to mull over it for a moment, giving him a scrutinising look. Then, he knelt down again, turning his head quizzically.

“Do you remember what you _are_ , exactly?”

Jun blinked. He fought off the frown waiting ever-so automatically to sink into his face. “What do you mean?” Voice level, always. Kai caught on pretty quickly, though. He wasn’t fooled, and smirked.

“That ‘green-yellow’ place? That’s the spirit realm.” He drawled, slowly. Jun looked down at his toes. “Not many people can just visit for an afternoon _picnic_.”

“You were in the Spirit Realm?” Jun murmured, almost hesitantly. Kai sent him a deadpan look in response and he quickly retracted that sentiment. “Oh. Yeah.” Green glowing eyes, after all. “Are you a ghost?”

“Spirit Warrior.”

“ _Ah_.”

“You’re avoiding my question, kid.”

Jun bit down on the inside of his cheek. “I’m not really sure what the deal was with that. If...If I was going into the Spirit Realm...” He should...really be more disturbed at that revelation. “Why did I stop?”

“Hmm...” Kai pushed off the ground, straightening up again. “Beyond me.” He eyed the road ahead, clearly having something else on his mind.

Then his eyes flickered to Jun’s pendant, hanging around his neck.

Kai had one, too. A green one, of course. The boy’s hoof rose, unconsciously, to clasp at it. “Um...where are you going?”

“To the Wang Fu Kung Fu Academy. There’s an old friend there I need to speak with.”

“One of the Four Racoon Warriors own that place.” Jun quipped from below. Kai seemed pleased with the comment,

“Know them, too, Mr Popular?”

Jun snorted despite himself. “Master Rhino had them over a few times to congregate...” Jun paced a bit, swinging his arms absently. “ _I_ wasn’t permitted to speak, but Master Shang talked to me. He snapped a tree in two. I was taller than him.”

“Impressive.” Kai noted, slowly. Jun heaved a sigh and looked his way again. “You know the way?”

Jun shrugged, offhandedly. “Mmm-hmm. I was supposed to check in there on my way to...” He trailed off. His gaze fell to another rock. There was a pause that Kai broke without hesitation,

“You’ve been sent out here on your own?”

No eye contact, but Jun nodded, trying his best at another shrug. “Master Rhino was sending me to the Valley of Peace.”

“From what I hear, that’s a _long_ way.” Kai cocked his head, with deliberate slowness. “What are you now, ten years?”

“I can do it.” Jun said, with more bravado than he actually felt. “I’ll be checking in with the Masters, like I said, so it’ll be fine.”

“Hmm- _hhm_.”

“It is!” Jun looked at the road ahead, pressing his lips together. “Are you...going now?”

“That way? Yup.” Kai wore an incredibly knowing smile, beginning to stride along. Jun wandered by his side, but kept a few steps between them,

“I’m going that way, too. I know the way and you don’t, so I’m in charge.”

Kai laughed, “Ha! Is that how it is? Well I’m the one with the swords and more _height_ to his name. If you get a growth spurt that outmatches me in the next five minutes, maybe I’ve consider it.”

Jun jogged on ahead, then spun around so he was walking backwards, “Yeah, but I’m still leading ‘cuz I know the way...”

“All right, tough guy.” Kai, ‘lamented’ with feigned resignation, “Lead the way...”

Jun came to wander by his side after a while. Then tension had evaporated from the air. Long forgotten, the child had left his misgivings back in that pass.

When he really should have held onto them.

...

Kai hadn’t been counting on this.

He hadn’t expected to see the child ever again, let alone run into him ere days after his escape. He’d already ‘picked up’ a few trophies on the way to the fabled’ Valley of Peace’ – really, could Oogway have chosen a tackier name?

But he kept noting things, things that bothered him in a way he couldn’t place. The boy had heard his name in passing when no one else had. What, was Oogway feeling remorseful after all? Was he _sorry?_

If he wasn’t, he’d make sure of it. He let the boy wander beside him, though he knew it wasn’t the best idea. He was leading him right to Wang Fu, after all. 

...


End file.
